


Say, What's In This Drink?

by orphan_account



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo III
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Double Penetration, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fuck Or Die, Futanari, Hand Jobs, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Original Character(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Smut, Technically Incest, Urzael's Enthusiastic Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-07 18:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12847194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Malthael 'accidentally' drugs Urzael, and now Urzael can't think straight. Good for him that he's got two friends that would love to help!





	Say, What's In This Drink?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InterstellarToaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterstellarToaster/gifts).



> I know I'm going to Hell, because I wrote this, but _you_ read this, so I'll see you there motherfuckers
> 
> Female character: with a futanari modifty. [She's probably Auriel's gal pal or something.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12786372/chapters/29178975)  
> 

“Malthael?”

Aerael pauses the music on her phone, delicately plucking out her earphones and looking up to the doorway. Urzael is hovering, with an expression more anxious than usual. He’s sweaty, and his face is flushed red, like he just ran twenty miles in ten minutes. Considering how much Urzael exercises, though, seeing him awkward and sweaty is kind of normal. So, Aerael merely shrugs in response when Urzael shoots her a questioning look. What she doesn’t miss is the shaky breath Urzael takes and lets out, warbling a little, as he’s about to exit Malthael and Aerael’s room. However, he never gets the chance. One moment he's on his feet, the next he's crumbled over, holding onto the door for support. Aerael launches her phone to the side, jumping up from the bed and rushing over to her brother, her hands quick and light.

“Urzael! What’s wrong?” Aerael panics. She’s never seen Urzael this sick before– strike that, she's never seen Urzael sick at all. He was always the picture of perfect health, the bastard. Aerael brings her hands up to Urzael’s shoulders, yanking them back in surprise. Urzael is burning up, panting, and he's turned as red as a solar flare. He's even got little tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, and Aerael’s heart does a tiny pang at the sight of him in such obvious distress. It must be one of those overnight fevers, is what she concludes.

“Hang on,” Aerael commands, before bending down and placing her hands on his back and legs respectively. With a quick motion, she picks the younger up, and walks determined back to the bed. She's ginger as she sets him down, before going to sit behind him, bringing his back to her chest as she tucks him between her knees. His skin is burning up, and Aerael starts to gently smooth down the hair on his head, the soothing motion from when they were younger. Tyrael and Imperius are in the next room over, the house fairly compact for its size, and Aerael contemplates calling for one of them. Tyrael would probably know what to do. If Aerael hadn't thrown her phone across the room, she’d consider dialing Auriel up instead, but that was then and this is now. Urzael makes a weak noise, and Aerael absently rubs the back of his neck, when suddenly Malthael strides in with a glass of water.

Malthael’s eyes go wide, and he stands rigid, an unmoving, lanky noodle at the sight of Urzael collapsed in his sister’s arms.

“Urzael,” He says in that ‘kinda worried but not overtly’ voice that Aerael recognizes as code for ‘really super worried’. There's a masked horror in his rush forward, the door half opened as he comes to kneel at the edge of the bed. With his free hand, he lightly touches Urzael’s forehead, pulling back when he comes in contact with the burning skin. Then, the glass of iced water is brought up, the rim of it to Urzael’s mouth.

“Drink,” he commands. Urzael frowns, as Malthael carefully tips the glass up. Urzael’s face twitches for a second, like he’d rather not, but then he parts his lips and ends up chugging almost half the cup in one breath. The other half is chugged not too long after, and Malthael places the now empty container on the nightstand. He stands back up, scrunching up his hands in a way that belays his anxiety, which is certainly new. In a way, he looks genuinely surprised. Aerael keeps stroking Urzael’s hair, and rumbling her chest for him, and she turns to Malthael to ask what they should do, when–

“That shouldn’t have worked,” is what Malthael says. He blurts it out like a confession, and Aerael’s eyes narrow. 

“What shouldn't have worked?” She demanded. 

A beat of silence.

“The...aphrodisiac…”

If Aerael had looked disappointed before, it was nothing compared to now. Her face morphs into some holy indignation, and Urzael retains enough sense of mind to let out a betrayed noise. 

“Malthael!” She hisses, mindful to keep her voice low, so as not to wake her sleeping brothers in the next room. Malthael’s arms go up, defensive, and if Urzael weren't in her arms, Aerael would have jumped up and slugged Malthael right then and there.

“It was the Nephalem!” Malthael hurries to explain, before Aerael can make good on her violence desire, “The Nephalem. They found a strange bottle while searching, and asked me to identity it. I was almost positive it was a dud, not the real deal, but I had to test it and decided to use Urzael as a test subject.”

Aerael’s eye twitches. Her fist scrunches up a little, “Malthael…”

“Would it be better,” Malthael begins, awkward, “If I said I only used Urzael because you were not there?”

“No.”

“Wait,” Urzael croaks, “You gave me an aphrodisiac?!” 

“Yes, that was the idea.”

“You–” Urzael growls. His voice is raspy, and his already hot skin starts to get even hotter with his indignant rage. His expression turns murderous, and Aerael realizes that he's about to go for Malthael. Which, is excellent, except all Urzael is liable to do is pass out if he tries. So, Aerael tightens her arms a little, her hold on Urzael’s waist constructing just a tad, a warning. She at least expects Urzael to try and lunge forward, but all he does is let out a little noise, as his chest hitches, and then he relaxes like some kind of cat, falling back heavily against Aerael. Aerael grunts in surprise, the weight on her chest taking the air from her lungs, and she wiggles. 

“Crushing me,” she wheezes. Urzael leans forward, still encaged in her legs, bending his knees towards himself and letting out a pititful noise.

“Hot,” he whines, dropping his head, “It's so hot. I, aaaah.”

Aerael’s traitorous mouth releases a strangled, worried cry. 

“Malthael,” Aerael hisses, “Do something!”

Malthael shuffles his hands, “Urzael, I– let me check something, okay? Then, I'll go see what I can do.”

Urzael makes a noise approximate a dying whale. Which, is about as much affirmation as they're gonna get. Malthael carefully unwraps Urzael’s arms from his knees, pushing him back onto Aerael’s chest. Aerael leans back again, her arms around Urzael’s chest, and she shoots Malthael a deeply suspicious glare. The elder doesn't notice or doesn't care, as he nudges Urzael’s legs open. Malthael hums, curious, at the very prominent bulge in Urzael’s boxers, and a small wet spot just above it. Urzael whines, and snaps his legs closed, embarrassed as he drags his knees back towards himself. Aerael’s disappointed expression magnifies.

“Well,” she growls, “What should we do?”

Malthael stands, walking over to his phone, and mumbling something noncommittal.

“Huh,” Aerael begins, a meandering tone to her voice, “I guess I’ll just go wake Imperius up and–”

“No!” Malthael spins around. His expression is stricken, “He will end me if he finds out what I did.”

“Mhm.”

Malthael groans, running a hand down his face, “Just, make him as comfortable as possible, for now. I will go and retrieve some more water and ice packs, and then I'll see what I can do.”

At that, Malthael breezes out of the room, flipping through his phone and muttering to himself. Aerael lets out a graceful huff, but shoulders her simmering rage to instead focus on the man in her arms. 

“Urzael,” Her voice is soft, “What can I do to make you more comfortable?”

Urzael whines again, and shifts, and that's when Aerael is aware that Urzael is still very much running a fever. The parts of their skin that had been touching are all sweaty now, and a little sticky, and Aerael twists her head.

“I’ll open a window when Malthael gets back with the water,” Aerael decides. Urzael blinks, all wide eye, before suddenly crawling away, to the opposite end of the bed. Aerael frowns, “Hey, no, get back here,” because she couldn't have him falling off the bed.

“No,” Urzael grunts.

“Urzael, I'm trying to help you,” Aerael retorts, crawling forward after her brother, and reaching to touch his leg in a comforting manner. Urzael freezes, as if shot, and Aerael freezes in kind, her brows knitting together as Urzael turns his glare at her.

“I’m sorry,” Aerael takes her hand away, already shuffling to the opposite end of the bed, but then Urzael’s expression changes, and he starts crawling towards her. Aerael’s back touches the backboard of her bed, and she blinks in confusion, as Urzael plants his hands on her shoulders. 

“Urzael?”

Urzael pushes down, and then he's clambering on top of Aerael, his hands migrating to her arms. He buries his face in her shoulder, inhaling deeply, and Aerael can only stiffen awkwardly, her own hands hovering just above Urzael’s lower back. She’s not sure what to do, because she can feel Urzael’s erection against her thigh, and it's more than a little uncomfortable– which, only grows when the younger starts rutting against her.

 

“Urzael!” Aerael squeaks, eyes flying to the doorway, as if Imperius could be summoned by the sheer magnitude of her embarrassment, “Urzael–! Get off, you're not thinking straight, you–”

“S-sorry,” Urzael manages in between breathy pants, eyes already losing focus as his mind begins to haze over, “I, I just need– need to–”

Aerael is still frozen, not wanting to move away in case that encourages Urzael, and she feels an approximate sensation like she's very much going to die. She can feel her own dick hardening through the fabric of her shorts, and Urzael’s leaving a pretty gnarly wet streak on her inner thigh, and Aerael’s just about resigned to her current disposition, when Malthael enters the room. He’s carrying a pitcher of water, and two ice packs, and his eyes widen comically at the scene occurring on the bed. Aerael lets out a really dignified shriek, really, as she hauls Urzael off of her. Urzael croaks out a little noise at the loss of friction, and tries to crawl back over to Aerael’s lap, until she pins down all of his limbs in a frankly spectacular move.

“Aeraaael,” Urzael whines, bucking his hips, “Come on, no, Aerael–”

“Urzael, shut up,” Aerael hisses, her face burning red, but still forcing herself to look at Malthael, a challenging tilt to her head. Malthael only shrugs awkwardly.

“It happens.”

“It happens?!”

“I researched what I could,” Malthael coughs, “And, well…”

“Go on.”

Malthael clears his threat, steeling himself, “He will either have to hold in the fever for several hours, or… or… we, well, fuck the fever out of him.”

Aerael blinks.

“What.”

Then, she looks back down to the still writhing Urzael underneath her. Back to Malthael. Then to Urzael. Back to Malthael one last time. She sighs, and holds out a hand for an ice pack. Malthael wordlessly hands her both. Aerael places one on Urzael’s forehead, and the other on Urzael’s chest, while the younger male wiggles around and gasps.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I know.”

Malthael grabs a glass, filling it with water, “Get Urzael over here. We need to hydrate him and settle him down before Tyrael or Imperius wake up.”

\----

Half an hour later, the situation hasn’t really changed for the better. The ice packs didn't work, already back to room temperature at the sheer force of Urzael’s fever, but at least the water had gotten Urzael to provide semicoherent responses. But the problem, as Aerael holds Urzael close to her chest, and Malthael dabs a cool washcloth on Urzael’s neck, is that Urzael’s fever just won't break. Aerael is freaking out, just a little, and it's not because Urzael keeps trying to grope her and Malthael. Malthael seems to be fine, unless you actually pay attention, because then you’ll realize that he’s just freaking out on the inside. At the fifth grope of the hour, Aerael finally breaks.

“I'm going to go wake up Imperius,” Aerael states, pointedly ignoring the glare Malthael gives her, because he's not the one Urzael keeps groping (mostly), and the wet streak Urzael left on her thigh is actually pretty gross since it's all dried and crusty now, and Aerael is just tired, okay. 

“You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me. I'm going to wake him up, and I'm going to tell him you drugged Urzael, and I'm going to do it while I'm still gross and crusty, and he's gonna realize that some weird shit happened, and then–”

Urzael’s whimper cuts Aerael’s rant off. The two coherent people in the room turn to look at Urzael, their eyes wide with alarm. If anything, the wet spot on Urzael’s boxers got bigger. Malthael and Aerael look at each other, and Aerael makes a noise very much like she would like to die. Malthael leans in, his head nearly touching Aerael. 

“Urzael needs to...come,” both flinch, “Or he’ll be like this for hours. His fever isn't breaking, if he stays like this, he could die,” Malthael’s voice is serious, and Aerael feels a flash of cold in her stomach, at the realization. 

“Crap.”

“We just need to help him out, and fast, and the fastest way to do it is...well, yes.”

Aerael’s face twists. She warbles a little, like she’d rather do anything else, but faced with either the death of her closest friend, or one embarrassing moment, she already knows her choice. Aerael turns to Malthael, glare flaring back to life.

“Okay. But, ground rules.”

“Of course.”

“One, we do not tell anybody, we don't speak of this. You tell anyone, and I’ll tell Imperius, and then your ass is grass. Two, I go.”

“...Why do you want to go?”

“Because you drugged him, and that's really creepy, but if Auriel hears about this and finds out that you did something to him while he was like this, she will actually murder you, and I value you enough that I'll take the bullet for this.”

“Thank–”

“And, that leads to number three: You have to wash my sheets for the next week.”

“What–”

“Look, I’m not the one who drugged him! This is all you.”

Malthael sighs, but nods, “Alright. Just—”

 

Urzael groans, slipping a hand into his boxers, eyes squeezed shut as he starts to jerk himself off. Aerael and Malthael’s jaws drop, and Aerael turns the approximate color of a tomato, before they both hastily nod, and Aerael positions herself between Urzael’s legs. Aerael is quick as she takes off Urzael’s ruined underwear, tossing it to the floor, before wrapping a hand around his shaft. Urzael moans, spreading his legs and managing to give Malthael a pleading expression. Malthael looks over to Aerael, questioningly.  
“Fine,” she growls, “But only consensual touching,” at which Malthael reaches for the back of Urzael’s knees and lifts his thighs up. Aerael blows a piece of hair out of her face, stroking faster.

“Ah, ahn—”

“Shh,” Malthael hushes, voice quiet by Urzael’s ear. “We do not want to wake Imperius or Tyrael up.”

“You should’ve closed the door,” Aerael tsks, but doesn’t move to close it, and Malthael doesn’t either, still holding up Urzael’s thighs. Aerael spares a brief moment to wonder how they all got into this situation.

Suddenly, Urzael let out a sharp cry, which Aerael muffles with her hand, and then he's coming, shuddering, taking both Aerael and Malthael by surprise. He makes a mess of his stomach, and Aerael blinks, because that will be a pain to clean up. At least it's over. Or, so they think, but Urzael is still hard in Aerael’s hand, and his fever hasn't gotten any better. In fact, it seems to have gotten worse. Urzael bucks his hips up into the air, and Aerael shoots Malthael a startled glance.

“What do we do,” she mouths.

Malthael is silent for a moment, before turning back to Urzael, “Do you need to come again?”

Urzael manages an embarrassed noise, as his face floods with discomfort, but still he nods, hands still fisted into Aerael’s sheets, knuckles white, “Y-yes,” and then he twists his head away, “Inside, please.”

Malthael nods, and takes off Urzael’s shirt, dropping it onto the floor next to the door.

“Tell us if you want us to stop,” Malthael says, waiting for Urzael’s jerky nod of response.

Aerael moves up between Urzael’s legs, face to face with him. Urzael is still making noises, gradually getting louder, and Aerael leans forward, quieting him with her lips. Urzael’s whimpers are muffled now, as he kisses back, hungrily. Aerael opens her mouth when Urzael pushes his tongue in, and Urzael eagerly uncurls his hands from the sheets in order to wrap them around Aerael. Aerael, taking the opportunity, slides an arm under her pillow, rummaging around until she finds the lube she hid there earlier. As she’s otherwise preoccupied, Malthael lets go of one of Urzael’s thighs to helpfully grab the bottle, coating a generous amount on Aerael’s free hand. Aerael may have said thank you, but she also may have just grunted vaguely. When Aerael’s fingers are wet enough, she presses the pad of her middle finger on Urzael’s rim. Urzael squirms and twitches, until Aerael finally pushes her finger inside him. Her index finger follows next, as Aerael works him open, and Urzael writhes under her. 

“Aerael,” Urzael whines again, breaking the kiss and resting his head on Aerael’s neck, his hands dropping to his sides, “Now,” and he demands in a breathless, needy tone. Aerael is about to retort, but then the third finger she presses inside slips in with ease.

“Burning Hells,” Aerael curses. Urzael keens, wiggling around, and so Aerael pulls away from Urzael in order to gracefully remove her soft shorts and shuck her underpants, using her unoccupied hand. Urzael whimpers at the loss of contact, but the sound chokes away into a mewl when Aerael starts moving her fingers around inside, still overly sensitive from his orgasm earlier.

“Aeraaaaael.”

Aerael cocks an eyebrow, but quickly pulls her hand out and slicks herself up, lowering back down to Urzael. Her breasts are heavy on his chest, and he bucks his hips, waiting. She aligns herself against Urzael’s entrance, and he makes an eager noise when she finally presses the tip in. From there, she gently rocks back and force, easing herself inside Urzael until she's pressed firm against Urzael’s ass. She looks up, and Urzael’s gaze is half-lidded, his mouth open to let out short pants of hot air. Aerael places her hands on Urzael’s thighs, and she begins to pump, in and out. 

Urzael arches his back, and Aerael sets a quick, controlled pace. Urzael twists his head, finding Malthael, and lets out a needy moan. Malthael takes the hint for what it’s worth, and brings his head close, nose to nose with the younger male. Urzael presses their lips together, occasionally giving stifled gasps and squeaks as Aerael continues. Suddenly, Urzael’s whole body tenses, and he pulls back, as Aerael gives a particularly strong thrust. His hands grip the back of Malthael’s head, and he whimpers. 

“Not yet,” Malthael whispers, “Let Aerael finish.”

Aerael manages the eloquent response of a vague grunt, her thrusts getting faster, until Urzael’s roaming hands find their way to Aerael’s breasts. He begins to rub the sensitive nubs of her nipples between his fingers, and Aerael’s entire body seems to shiver.

“U-Urzael,” she scolds, “No fa-aair.”

Before either Malthael or Aerael can react, Urzael pushes forward, pressing Aerael down on the mattress and straddling her hips without disconnecting them. His movements are quick, as he begins to ride her. Malthael blinks, but before he can move away, Urzael’s hand latches onto the elder’s wrist. 

“Malthael,” he manages, twisting his head to look over, “I-I want you inside me too.”

Aerael catches Malthael’s gaze, and narrows her eyes, still semi-coherent through the haze, “Well?” She challenges, “W-we might as well–hng– get this over with.”

Malthael nods, removing his sweatpants and underwear entirely, before moving over Aerael’s thighs to get behind Urzael. He wraps his arms around Urzael’s middle, mindful of the heat of the younger man’s skin. 

“Come on,” Urzael whines, still grinding on Aerael, “M-malthaeel.”

“Are you sure?” Malthael asks, hands drifting downwards.

“Please,” Urzael gasps, and Aerael is fairly certain any common sense was thrown out the window a while ago, “Please, I need it, Malthael, p-please.”

Malthael nods once more, before carefully pushing Urzael down on Aerael to give them space. Urzael keens, crawling his hands upwards under Aerael’s collarbones, until his elbows are beneath him and his nose is on Aerael’s throat. Aerael shuffles, bringing her hands up to Urzael’s lower back, while Malthael’s hands move to Urzael’s hips. Malthael makes quick work of slicking himself up, before returning his attention to Aerael and Urzael. Aerael gives him the signal to go ahead, and so Malthael positions himself. 

 

“Aaah,” Urzael presses himself firm against Aerael’s neck, at which she lets out a comforting burble, as Urzael feels the anticipation mounting “Yesssss.”

Malthael aligns his cock to Urzael’s hole, slowly plunging in right above Aerael. Urzael’s shivering increases, and so Malthael stood halfway, not wanting to hurt him. All Urzael does is moan loud, still pressed against Aerael’s chest, like the filling of a very unique sandwich, Aerael’s heavy breasts and Malthael’s firm pecs. Urzael’s eyes are squeezed shut, but he's seeing stars, sweating hard and panting harder. He inhales, Aerael’s comforting scent filling him, and suddenly Malthael is pushing in again by another inch. Urzael whimpers, grabbing onto Aerael’s shoulders for leverage, and then Malthael is completely inside him, right next to Aerael. The stretch is insane, straining to what must be the breaking point, but it feels so good that Urzael can only let out breathless moans, loud and filthy and most definitely audible enough to wake up any previously sleeping people. Aerael’s hands, still on Urzael’s lower back, start rubbing soothing circles on the man’s heated skin.

“Fuck, f-fuck, Aerael, M-Malthael, aaaah,” Urzael keens against Aerael’s neck, followed by a string of lewd moans that fill the room. Malthael licks a long strip up Urzael’s neck, and the younger throws his head back with a high-pitched squeal of delight, begging and babbling for more. Malthael hums, but gives Urzael what he wants, dragging his tongue across Urzael’s skin until Urzael’s pressing himself back, his shoulder blades onto Malthael’s chest. Aerael lifts her head up, just a little, watching Urzael writhe in a cocktail of pleasure. Urzael’s face is flushed, saliva falling from his lips, and he seems to be on another plane of existence entirely. Aerael wonders, briefly, if Imperius or Tyrael are listening. But then Malthael’s eyes catch her gaze, and he tilts his head, asking for a signal. 

Aerael nods, and mouths the words, “Go.”

Malthael slowly pulls out, a little, then thrusts back in experimentally, stopping once he's completely inside Urzael again. Aerael takes the hint, and mimicks Malthael’s actions, tentatively pumping out and then in. Then Malthael goes once more, and while he's pushing in, Aerael slides out, and thus the pace is set. They continue, until Urzael lets out a harried groan.

“Faster,” he rasps, voice quiet but needy.

The two then begin to put up speed, and soon they're slamming back and forth into Urzael, alternating, until Urzael’s pleased whimpers start turning into screams that are getting louder and louder. And, well, Aerael’s pretty sure that Imperius and Tyrael are completely awake now. She looks down, and can see the handprints they're leaving on Urzael’s skin clearly now. Aerael feels a twinge, and she almost wishes those prints could stay forever.

“C-cuming–” Urzael manages to choke out, before his moans become shorter and his screams turn in shrill, quiet sounds, and then he's coming for a second time. It's harder than the last one, longer, coming out in spurts, and his eye roll into the back of his head. Urzael lets out one finally, breathless wailed and then he slumps down on Aerael, spent. Malthael and Aerael are squeezed in tighter by Urzael’s orgasm, and it becomes too much, and they come one after another.

 

Malthael pulls out of Urzael after he's done, dropping down beside the two before he collapses on them. Aerael’s eyes are closed and Urzael’s passed out already, and Aerael has an awkward expression on her face, at which Malthael realizes Urzael’s dead weight must be crushing her. Malthael sits up, and helps to lift Urzael off of the female. Aerael hisses when she slips out of Urzael, groaning at the sight of their release seeping out of Urzael’s hole. She shifts, and they drop Urzael in between them– the bed is small, but pressed together, they can manage. Before she turns in, Aerael glances to the still-opened door, and barely makes out the forms of two people outside; Imperius and Tyrael, it would seem, laying on the floor. Aerael stares for a second, before making a choked sound, because she's pretty sure they've just given each other mutual hand jobs. Then, she shakes her head, just a little, before draping an arm over Urzael’s sleeping form. Malthael intertwines their hands, and they both shuffle closer to Urzael, before letting sleep take them.


End file.
